


Heartsick

by Tali_4



Category: Harvest Moon, Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns, 牧場物語つながる新天地 | Story of Seasons
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Ford - Freeform, Holly - Freeform, Nanami - Freeform, Ramance, story of seasons - Freeform, trio of towns - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 00:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20844926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tali_4/pseuds/Tali_4
Summary: “The odds were stacked against me. It seems I was not up to the task of making you happy, Holly. Perhaps I should have freed you sooner.”A piece inspired by Ford's (Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns) in-game break up dialogue. Ford and Holly break up.





	Heartsick

**Heartsick**

Holly awaits her boyfriend with a racing heart.

The early Spring daffodils and bluebells dot the meadow horizon of her property, where the teardrops of vivid colour contrast against the waking grass. The mountains are alive and thriving with change. Bees bumble by, tending to the blooms without a care.

A brisk wind cuts through the mountain, billowing Holly’s dress high. Her hand anchors her hat in place, golden hair whipping in all directions as she spots him. Like the sun cresting, Ford comes to her, basking her in his warmth. He’s ambling towards her, his face twisted with anxiety as he nears her.

Ford smiles. A heart aching, half tug on his lips that are marked with pain. He knows.

Holly’s pulse quickens and she hides her blushing face in a deep curtsy. “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice, I’m sure you’re booked full with flu season.” She cannot seem to meet his eyes.

Ford placed a hand over his chest. The pleasure is all mine. I’m happy to move my schedule around you, Holly.” He admits, bowing and kissing the back of her hand. “But I’m assuming this isn’t a pleasant occasion, yes?” He asked bluntly, levelling his icy blue gaze with hers. A flash of something in them, dashed away before she could inquire. 

Though it scared her, hurt her, to do this— she must. Hollie clenched her fists, mustering the courage, the _ strength _ to honour their relationship. To tell Ford the truth, painful as it may be. She fretted her bottom lip between her teeth, drawing his attention there momentarily. As calm and quiet as Ford was, he hated to have her silent with distress. He reached for her, resting his hands on her trembling shoulders as he whirled his thumbs in gentle circles. Giving her the fire she needed.

“Ford...thank you.” It took every ounce of her willpower not to smother her face in his palms, weep against him and maybe try and work things out. She shook her head, erasing those cruel, selfish intentions. She swallowed her fear, tears brimming as she looked up at him, a halo of the mid-morning sun illuminating his flaxen hair. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

Perhaps he sensed the imminent, as he leant in to stall. “You could never hurt me, Holly.” His voice a smoothing balm, better than any medicine. The feeling is a knife, wedging into her heart.

“I have to confess. I can’t let it make me bitter towards you, Ford.” She looked to her open hands, calloused and mapped from farm labour. The same hands that fit so perfectly with the good doctor’s. She recalls how his fingers intertwine seamlessly with hers as they walked along the babbling Tsuyukusa river. A falling Sakura petal caught in her hair. Freed in one clean movement, tucked away for safekeeping in Ford’s pocket.

The blooms are mocking them now, bursting with fragrance as Ford takes a step towards her, encountering the space separating them. Holly disallows it, her hands up in defeat, not resistance. There’s a knife in his heart, too. He stumbled back wordlessly, awaiting her words like a killing blow. 

“I feel unfulfilled by your affection,” Holly explained, buffing her shoulders nervously. He needed to hear things he could understand. “Maybe it’s our work. Maybe it’s my desire to rush into things too quickly…” she laughed. The sound making him wince. “I feel like I’m suffocating you and myself.” She buried her face from view into her hands, already missing the warmth of his touch. So far from her, he seemed. “I thought I could ignore the feeling, but that’s only made it worse.”

Ford wouldn’t speak, he only let her talk. Let her pour her aching soul out to him, visceral, angry, shaken and unsure. _ “ _You can’t even explain why you love me. Do you still not know why?” Her voice cracked, the dam bursting as she began to cry. “I can’t help feeling like I’ve just forced you into this relationship with me.”

Holly squinted through her haze of tears, barely able to make Ford out before her. She heard him take a deep breath, releasing it before nodding. “I believe you’re correct. Err— right, that is. In feeling some of this.” He cleared his throat, his usually collected self-crumbling. “I... I’ve been pondering this very thing for some time now. That there’s this growing rift between us that I’m powerless to do anything against. I can’t identify exactly what the problem is, but I know none of my efforts has made a difference.”

Holly was left reeling. Even in his heartbreak, he remained calm for her. As if _ he _ didn’t want to hurt _ her. _“Oh, Ford. Efforts? Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“All of my solutions failed. Every time I attempted to pin down what the problem was exactly, I felt blinded. Like I’m reaching for something I cannot even see, flailing about in a dark and empty room, and you’re nowhere in sight. I’ve already lost you.” Ford’s words are delivered gently, for only Holly to hear. A tragic poem, their love has written. “How could someone like me have ever found the words to tell you?”

She pursed her lips, trying to stop the tears from falling. “You’re finding the words now,” Holly remarked positively, proud to see Ford communicating his feelings, regardless of their nature. It hurt to see just how affected he seemed now by their breakup. “If only I’d waited for you.” She murmured, probably unheard by him. She likened him to the waking mountain grass, rising from its hibernation blearily slow from the blanket of frost. Dull and muted, but dabbled with brilliant flowers. Bursting just a hint too soon.

“Though it leaves me feeling disheartened and frustrated that our relationship has come to this…” Ford chuckled, peering down at his shuffling feet. “I knew from the start. Looking back now, I’m insane to have jumped in. To think that someone like me could be what you needed? Idiotic.” Another dry, humourless laugh. So unlike his charmingly boyish guffaws that he couldn’t stifle around her.

Holly could hardly believe what she was hearing. It was as if he could peer inside of her and pull the explanations out that were too hard to utter. He’d known all along. The thought brought her to tears once more, but Ford smiled at her.

“The odds were stacked against me. It seems I was not up to the task of making you happy, Holly.” He clenched his fists by his sides. “Perhaps I should have freed you sooner.” He spoke those words bitterly to himself. Punishment for his perceived lacking.

“It hurts to hear you blame yourself, Ford. Don’t think I haven’t been happy with you.” Their time together had meant the world to her. He’d taught her diligence and she’d taught him how to better express his kindness. That warm bastion of tenderness that she’d always known had been there. She’d just sapped it too quickly. She thumbed her skirt hem nervously. “I’m just unhappy with the situation. For perhaps not being a proper fit for _ you _.”

His brows furrowed. “And for that, I am truly, truly sorry.” He coughed into his fist, adjusting his tie as he posed a question. “I do have one request if you wouldn’t mind obliging.”

Holly nodded expectantly. “Anything, Ford.”

“Though our courtship ends today, may we still remain acquaintances?” He toed a patch of clover, awaiting her answer critically. Her response would determine the remainder of their relationship. 

“Friends?” She tried to calm her fluttering heart, to not give in to the charming doctor’s blushing face. “Even if you and I could use a break from being intertwined romantically,” She laced her fingers together sheepishly, steering firmly to her point. “We’ll always be close, Ford.” 

Holly’s words were assuring to him. He managed a smile for her, bowing his exit all too soon. “Thank you, Holly. I’m glad— happy, to hear you say that. It’s a relief, really.” He closed the distance between them, keeping a measured tilt, looking all the world like he wanted to hug her goodbye, just like before. But his icy gaze merely glanced over her a final time. “Now then, I should be going on my way, I’m sure you’re very busy.”

She’d been as gentle as possible, she supposed. Ford would only have hated her if she’d minced words. “Thank you again for meeting me. For everything. You’re a wonderful man, Ford.” The words tumbling from her lips before she’d a chance to think on their implications. 

Ford showed his back to her, hiding that flash of mystery in his eyes. “As short as our relationship may have been, I had the most fun I’ve ever had with you, Holly. So thank _ you _ for everything. I loved all that you shared with me.” His tone twisted the knife, his masked expression plunging it deeper as he turned to walk away from her. Mountain winds stirred his coattails amongst the petals.

“I only hope that when you find your true love, whoever it may be, it is someone healthy, active and free of destructive habits.” He whirled on his heels, tears brimming as he beamed at her. “But most of all, I hope it’s someone kind, attentive, and worthy of your love and devotion.”

“Goodbye, Ford.” Holly extended to him, engaging in a too formal, too brief embrace that left her feeling empty.

He released her briskly. “Farewell, Holly.”

She caught one wind stew blossom between her fingers and touched it to her lips, paper-thin and smoother than silk. She tenderly pocketed it for preserving as Ford becomes a speck once more on the brilliant horizon. Tears streaming down her cheeks like rain for the flowers.

* * *

Ford stared blankly at his tear-stained sheets, not another drop left to shed. He’d woken up with them spilling from his eyes, his chest seizing in pain with every movement. His body trembling with an immense, all over ache that he couldn’t begin to pinpoint. His hands, his throat, his stomach. He was drenched in sweat from head to toe.

He looked blearily to the passing clock-hand. Already noon and he’d yet to find an appetite. His belly growled, but nothing kept down long enough. Anxiety, nausea...perhaps he’d contracted the flu? He dabbed a kerchief to his damp forehead, shaking his pyjama collar to ventilate.

Ford almost found it easier to jot down what _ didn’t _ail him at the moment. “Everything hurts!” He shouted to his empty clinic, reaching weakly for the glass of water by his bedside, hand shaking as he brought it to his mouth to drink deeply. He slammed it aside, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

The OPEN side of his sign stared back at him, bold red letters that should be facing the public from his office window. He simply couldn’t bear to be under the scrutiny of the public eye, let alone care for anyone at the moment. He could scarcely care for himself! His head fell back against his pillows and he gazed wide-eyed at the ceiling’s puzzle of wooden beams, cobwebs thick in their midst. His heart felt the same way. A tightly locked trap covered in dust, hollow and devoid. He’d thought, maybe...just maybe, _ she’d _ had the key.

He turned on his side, relieving some pressure in his chest. He shut his eyes, praying the spinning would stop. Behind his closed lids, he could only see his mistakes. Months of folly played out before him in vivid technicolour, highlighting his faults as a man. As a partner for Holly. All of the times he should have leant in for a kiss, all the times he should have taken his time walking her home— damned be their schedules! All of the dates that should have ended in an “I love you.” What a coward he’d been...no wonder she had eventually tired of him.

He rolled onto his back, sprawling his arms out. A youthful, vibrant woman like Holly had needed excitement and passion. Not level headed chasteness. Perhaps he’d been too much of a gentleman? No. He’d been standoffish with her at times, almost afraid to have someone as wonderful so near. So scared to make a mistake he could hardly make a move. That sort of pensiveness couldn’t possibly have made her feel loved.

A sudden knock at his door had his stomach churning. Who could it possibly be? He forced himself to rise on his elbows, squinting at his unlocked door. Another handful of quick knocks had the door rattling in its pane.

“Well just come in, then!” Ford shouted, throwing his hands up. Morally obligated to treat anyone that needed his aid, even in his pitiful state. He could barely make out a muffled voice beyond the door before the knob began to turn. Sunlight and sand poured in, closed off once more by his guest.

Ford’s jaw nearly dropped. For her to see him like this was mortifying, but he very well couldn’t cower beneath the covers forever.

Holly’s heart-aching self stood before him, hands on her hips, baskets of vegetables looped over her shoulders. Her beautiful face wrinkled in distress as she viewed him, dropping her payload and immediately coming to his side. Her emerald eyes were full of worry as she spoke. “Oh Ford, are you alright?” She pressed her forehead against him to measure his fever. He blanched, pulse skyrocketing before she moved back, pulling up a chair to probe him further. “You look pale. Have you eaten anything today?”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing here to stir my appetite.” He admitted. Usually able to suffice on simple amenities for early morning meals like watered oats, cottage cheese, granola bars, or fruit toasts— though all of his currently stocked dietary preferences seemed to bubble the wrong acids in his stomach, souring him. He felt like a picky child. 

Holly leaned forward, sending him awash in her tantalising harvest scent. He inhaled shamelessly under the guise of a sniffle. “You’ve got to eat something, it’ll help settle your belly.” She promised with a smile, one hand resting on his. “Did you suddenly fall ill or has this one crept up on the busy doctor? You of all people should know the value or precaution. And the occasional day _ off. _” She teased, rising from her seat to gather the produce that’d spilled onto the floor.

Ford watched her every elegant movement, almost able to pretend that she was his again. Here to coddle and fuss over her beau. He cleared the lump in his throat, shaking those intoxicating thoughts away, his head already too dizzy. “Strange enough, it overcame me late last night. I suddenly felt too lethargic to move and had to crawl in bed. I’ve been here ever since.” He sat up, despite his body begging for him to stay put. Pillows tucked behind his back so he could watch Holly. “And here I thought I had been on top of maintaining my health.”

“You should relax, take the rest of the day to yourself while you recover. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.” She hummed, arms full of produce that she washed in the sink, eyeing his two-burner stove like a challenge. His minimal cookware seemed undaunting as she grabbed his single pot and single saucepan before getting to work.

Ford tried to sweep his legs over the bed, to at least offer some assistance, but the moment his feet hit the cold tiles, his focus blurred. His head spun violently, visions of her dancing in his eyes. He thudded back, cemented to his bedsheets, barely able to keep himself propped to watch her. His pulse somehow sluggish and heavy, racing and skipping at the same time. “You don’t have to do that, Holly.” He protested weakly as she began preparing tomatoes and runner beans in a little spring green salad. The fragrance of lemongrass and basil crept over to him, inducing his stomach to a rumble, one Holly heard from across the room.

“I know, Ford.” She swung her hips while she worked, chopping yams for a boiled mash and preparing a salted cut of salmon on a clean bed of rice. She knew exactly how to play to his tastes. “Just appreciate a favour from a friend, alright?” She relayed, cheerily presenting his lunch board for him and setting it across his lap. Her look of satisfaction almost his undoing.

Ford’s eyes would have been leaking had he any energy left to cry. He gawked at the colourful array of home-grown delicacies spread out before him, heartsick for a hearth that wasn’t his. So this is what life could be like with her? He noted the possibilities, the variables. The chances he might yet have with her. 

The appetite that’d befuddled him just earlier came roaring to life and he was compelled like a mad man to consume. Holly’s cooking had him on cloud nine as he sunk his teeth into crisp lettuce and hearty slices of red tomato. She passed him a room temperature bottle of jersey milk from her dress apron, to which he killed in a few gulps, his head tossed back to savour every last drop. Sweet potatoes and salmon disappeared in a flash and Ford couldn't help but notice he’d begun to feel somewhat better.

Hollie cleared his plates, tidying up and leaving not a crumb in her wake, the kitchenette practically sparkling, in better shape than she’d found it. Bettering all that she touched. If she could make a bounty grow from acrid mountain soil, then Ford had no doubt she could harvest a more tender, a more fulfilling love from him.


End file.
